This Columbus Day weekend we escaped to the great metropolis of
Londinium. What follows is a rough sketch of events, thoughts, and places we visited.
FRIDAY
Afternoon: We set up camp in the back of the bus (where the cool kids sit) to London. With our multiplicity of bags spread over the five seats of the back row and the excited squeals emanating from the car seat, we presented quite a deterrant to other cool kids who were considering any vacant seats nearby. We were just too cool for them.
The ride was approximately three hours, and over that stretch of time I came to re-realize that there is just too wide a variety of ring tones in this world. I fully understand the risks involved with too few--familiar I am with watching a movie wherein a character's phone goes off and I check my own purse. However, the opportunity for the retarded masses to each subject the rest of us to their retarded "individuality" makes me want to bludgeon their retarded phones with a cricket bat. Repeatedly.
Evening: We arrived at Victoria Coach Station and found our way to the underground where we found the rest of London vying for the ticket machines. We eventually sorted ourselves out (after two trips to said ticket machines amongst said crowd maneuvering unsaid luggage and child). We then discovered, though not unexpectedly, that England is like the rest of Europe in being quite health-conscious and wishing all underground passengers to cope with many many stairs. Handicap access? P-shaw.
Our bumbling juggling adventures notwithstanding, we finally made it to the Georgian apartment building in Kensington that would be our accommodations for the weekend. We got our keys, and hoisted luggage plus kid up to the third floor where a beautifully renovated apartment breathlessly awaited us--or maybe we were the breathless ones. We passed a pleasant evening acquainting ourselves with the secret nooks and beauty 50" HD the apartment had to offer, then settled in for sleep.
SATURDAY
Morning: After rustling up the young'un and all associated paraphernalia, we headed out in search of Notting Hill and, more specifically, the Portobello Road flea market. We tried to do this early, in hopes of heading off the not-recently-washed masses who were sure to turn up. Unfortunately, the London Council transportation authority had other ideas, and closed the Circle and District lines--the ones we needed, of course--for the whole weekend. With the wistful ambition only a man willing to say, "It doesn't look all that far on the map," possesses, we headed out on foot. By putting the
ram in
pram, we quickly made our way through the crowded sidewalks of Kensington and into the serene, leafy trails of London's embassy district just west of Hyde park.
As we neared Portobello Rd, we followed the crowds to the market. It stretched on for miles, offering a wide variety of merchandise from antique sporting equipment and food jars to hip bohemian fashion to rummage goods to "second-hand" bicycles (Hey, that's my bike! I thought it had been stolen. Wait a minute...). We heard so much Italian amongst the crowds that I truly forgot we were in England. I came close to addressing a stall owner/operator in Italian on a few occasions.
Afternoon: After eating our packed lunch, we discovered the food section of the market and greatly regretted our planning ahead. Ah well, onward and upward. We finished strolling the length of the market and decided to head into the heart of London. We eventually located the nearest tube stop, navigated the unrelenting stairs, and caught the next train to Westminster.
Here I will have to move to listing so as to avoid too much tedious detail. We walked to: Downing St., Whitehall, Trafalgar Sq., the Savoy Hotel (where Mom and I stayed a few years ago for a conference), and down a little alley of restaurants near the hotel to eat at a little Italian joint.
Evening: As we emerged from the restaurant, day was winding down and nightlife was winding up. The city lights danced and sparkled their invitation to join the fun in pubs, nightclubs, and theaters. We took to our feet once again to explore a few of the hopping parts of town: Leicester Sq., Covent Gardens, and all that lay in between. We jostled along with the masses for a bit, then sought the quiet that lay along the river. Our stroll brought us back to the Westminster underground stop and we hoisted Jonah plus stroller once again down the stairs into the hot belly of the city.
SUNDAY
This weekend was our church's semi-annual
General Conference, which means that services were being broadcast from Salt Lake City. Unfortunately for us, we did not have an internet signal at our flat to receive said conference via the www, and we had not looked up church addresses in London where we could go to view it via satellite with the other members. So we sought other methods of worship for our sabbath.
First we went to the Tate Modern to view the beauty that man can create. Unfortunately, we didn't see much that really inspired us. So we headed out towards Westminster Abbey where we knew a three o'clock evensong would shortly be in session. We didn't relish the thought of hoisting the stroller down and up and down and up a load of stairs in the underground, so we decided to walk--quickly. The street vendors and performers along the Thames became a whirl of delicious aromas and vibrant colors as we darted through the strolling Sunday crowd.
We arrived breathless and slightly glowing just in time for the opening hymn. We were seated with the small crowd of other just-on-timers, and thanked our lucky stars that the walk had lulled Jonah to sleep. The abbey was beautiful, and the voices of the choir floated upward like lingering, sweet-smelling wisps of incense. Jonah woke up part way through the service and decided to add his own sweet, joyous voice to the choir's.
Having had our fill of the angelic, and having once again changed Jonah's diaper in a far-too-awe-inspiring setting for that particular transaction, we were off to run the city ragged once more. We headed over to Bond Street via the Tube (more stairs). We grabbed some dinner in a great Lebanese joint, during which I surreptitiously fed Jonah, unsure of how this proceeding would be viewed by our very kind hosts.
Evening: Although we had skirted through some of the Soho neighborhoods the night before, we hadn't realized where we were (which takes some of the cool out of it), and wanted to take in the full experience. So off we trotted to discover Bohemia. We immediately found the gay street--gay pubs and night clubs and transvestites mincing down the street. It was quite festive. We wound our way around the rest of Soho, drinking in the lights and the energy. Eventually a street with bobbing red paper lanterns strung back and forth above our heads told us we'd found Chinatown. Restaurants and grocery stores alike glowed from within. One restaurant proudly proclaimed the year of the pig with a large window decoration of Miss Piggy that lit up. Eventually we had our fill of the nightlife and headed home.
MONDAY
Monday was to be our last day in London. We headed back to Chinatown for lunch in a little dumpling shop we'd passed the night before. It was absolutely perfect and put us in marvelous spirits. We then hit Green Park, Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park (Jonah
loved feeding the ducks),
Herrod's (if you want to view
paradise...), and the
Victoria and Albert Museum. Back to the apartment, sorted out the keys, spent a few hours trying to locate the coach station, and back on the bus to wisk us off to dear Cheltenham once again.
Over the course of these three days we completely exhausted ourselves, but we found London to be quite a wonderful place--despite, or perhaps because of, the ubiquitous stairs, our black boogers at the end of the day, every language but English being spoken at any given point in the city, the amazing architecture, the bustling nightlife, the colorful street performers, the serene parklife, and the friendliness of the people. It's definitely on the shortlist of places we'd like to live.
A few more pictures can be found
here.
With the advent of Halloween upon us, consumer dialogue has turned to cardboard decoration and plastic costuming. The U.K. does not, or I should say has not, given this holiday the same attention as the U.S., but they seem to be catching up. Pumpkin displays at roadside stands, Jack-o-Lantern carving community activities, aisles of costumes and decorations at the grocery store, and BBC reports on fines for pranksters are all indications that England is getting into the spirit of All Hallows Eve. 
